Waiting
by Marianne Bennet
Summary: As Revan goes out onto the Manaan sea floor alone, Canderous, Carth, and Bastila await her return inside of the submarine. When Bastila and Canderous are left alone, a rather heated discussion ensures resulting in a surprising result. One-shot


Waiting

"So… she decided to head out onto the Rift, all alone, surrounded by sharks that will eat just about anything, and hope not to die? "

"Yep," said Carth, sounding extremely tired. "That sounds about right. She's damn persistent, that's for sure."

"Women," agreed Canderous, already rummaging through his pack for that bottle of Tarisian Ale that he was sure was in there somewhere. "Always thinking that they can do more than they really can. But I guess that your Sarinae is something special, Republic."

Carth began to sputter after taking a sip of water from the rations in the submarine. "She's hardly _my _Sarinae. She isn't _anyone's_ Sarinae. That is, not if she doesn't want to be."

"Please," insisted Bastila, rolling her eyes as she spoke. "Can either of you ever answer a question of mine without diverting the conversation to what the deficiencies of the female gender are? Or at least, what they are in your opinion."

The Mandalorian grinned smugly as he "discovered" the flask of ale "hidden" in one of the extra pairs of socks in his bag. "Carth likes to discuss the 'deficiencies of the female gender' in order to vent out all of his frustrations concerning his fearless leader Sar. I discuss them just to watch your ears turn red, princess."

"My ears do not turn red!" she exclaimed in return. "And, even if they did, why in the galaxy would you ever find that satisfying?"

"I'm going to go and sit in the cockpit," muttered Carth, already discreetly moving towards that particular area of the submarine. "I think that Darth Bandon may have meddled with my mind just a little."

"He didn't do any damage that wasn't already there!" replied Canderous good-naturedly as Bastila sighed. The Mandalorian then popped the cap off of his bottle and roared with laughter as the ale bubbled over the lip of the bottle. The Jedi observed his antics with distaste. Canderous took a gulp of the drink then pushed the bottle towards Bastila who inadvertently cringed away from the smell of alcohol. "Whaddaya say, princess? Shall we bury the hatchet?"

"No, thank you," answered Bastila primly after little deliberation.

Canderous watched her warily as if she were about to spontaneously combust at any moment. "Well then." He took another sip, this time less rambunctiously. "I –I heard about your mother."

"Did you?" responded Bastila after a moment of hesitation. "She's –she's going to Corusant. She promised me that. She can find the necessary medical attention there. She's –she's going to be alright," she said softly as though to reassure herself. "I'm going to see her again."

"I heard that there was a holocron of your father's that she wanted. Did you end up giving it to her?"

The Jedi glanced at him with some surprise revealing itself on her face. "Yes, I did. It was the right thing to do. The proper thing to do, the Jedi thing to do. I had no need of the holocron. I have years ahead of me."

"Do you ever think about those years ahead of you? Do you plan them out, decide before hand? Do you know what you're going to do once all of this chaos with the Star Maps is over?"

"No," said Bastila, looking out onto the ocean floor. "I'm usually too busy thinking about the present. There's so much to be done now. I have little time to waste on any plans for the future."

Canderous leaned back in his chair comfortably. "Then you're like Republic back there," he said, angling his head in the direction of the cockpit as he did so. "He's got no vision of what life's going to be like after Karath is dead. That isn't a good place to be."

Bastila turned on him. "And what exactly do you plan to do when all of this is over?" she demanded. "From what I understand, after the Mandalorian Wars you floated around the galaxy like a common mercenary, working for Davik and the rest of the Exchange. It was Sarinae and our mission from the Jedi Council that gave you a purpose. What do you plan to do when that purpose is gone?"

"I have my own purposes. I have my own plans. Working for Davik was just a way to get from one side of the galaxy to another. It was just step one. And this is step two."

"So, this is all just a 'step?'" Bastila slapped a hand against the hull of the submarine. "All of this, this is just one step in Canderous Ordo's grand master plan? Does this – does what we're doing here actually mean anything to you or is it just a way to get 'from one side of the galaxy to another?'"

Lazily, Canderous rose and stretched. "This isn't my mission; this is _your _mission, princess. Don't you forget that. For all you know, I'm just along for the ride. _Ebon Hawk _is a fast ship. Maybe I'm just in all of this for the thrill of battle."

"But you aren't," said Bastila uncertainly. "You, like Carth, like Mission, like Jolee, you must understand that there is a greater purpose to all of this. Perhaps you understand, even subconsciously, that there is something else that calls you to Sarinae, to this mission. You must understand somehow that this mission is for the greater good, to make the galaxy a safer place for everyone, Republic, Mandalorian, everyone. You must understand that."

"I understand nothing," said Canderous provokingly, "and in the end, neither do you. You really believe all of that crap the Jedi Council is feeding you? Everyone in the galaxy has an ulterior motive for everything that they do. I've learned that in my experience."

"And I have learned in my experience that everything one does for another in this galaxy has repercussions, good or bad, that will affect the doer," responded Bastila defensively. "War is not the answer. The answer is in the little kindnesses that one does for another."

"And you know nothing of battle," he replied distastefully. "You know nothing of war. Senators that babble on and on about peace and democracy and justice, they're not the ones that get things done in the end. War gets things done. If you want a solution, if you want to make a statement that will last the test of time, you go to war."

"And is that your justification for losing the Mandalorian Wars?" asked Bastila indelicately. "That it was all just a statement? That the countless lives lost doesn't matter in the end, that all that matters is the message sent? I doubt that."

"Lives matter little if a lesson is to be learned. Sacrifice is essential to the tide and turn of the galaxy. And besides, it wasn't our Mass Shadow Generator that destroyed Malachor." Canderous's lower lip curled in disgust. "It was yours."

"It was not _mine_!" snapped Bastila. "I did nothing!"

"And that is even worse!" bellowed Canderous. "You did nothing. Apathy is defeat. Apathy is agreement with the enemy, no matter who or what the enemy is. Apathy, Bastila, is death." He began to pace around the small room. "Apathy is for cowards. I am not a coward." He began to mutter, repeating that phrase over and over again through his teeth. "I am not a coward. I am not a coward."

Bastila drew a little closer, reaching out a hand as though to place it on the Mandalorian's shoulder only to draw it back to her side. "You are not a coward," she said gently. "You are not a coward. We all know that Canderous. We are all haunted by war, even if we did not partake in battle."

"You weren't there," said Canderous through clenched teeth. "You weren't there when Basilisk War Droids fell from the sky, coming down like a shower of gray sleet. You weren't there on Dxun where the jungle threatened to swallow all of us, Republic or Mandalorian, up. You weren't there when bombs dropped on Serreco, bathing the planet in golden smoke that preceded the nuclear radiation that was to come."

"I wasn't there," agreed Bastila. "But I felt it. I felt it through the Force. I do not know of any Jedi that has not felt it. I wasn't there," she began to feel her throat close over. "But I felt it."

And then she found the courage to put her hand on Canderous's shoulder and they stood there for a time, waiting the long night out with leagues and leagues of distance between them and the ocean's surface without really knowing who or what they were waiting for.


End file.
